


The Greatest Lie

by petrodactyl352



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), Castlevania (Netflix), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Multi, POV Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya, Post-Season/Series 02, Unrequited Love, Violence, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 07:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17198966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrodactyl352/pseuds/petrodactyl352
Summary: "I'm not jealous," he whispered, sinking to his knees in the snow. It was cold, but he hardly felt it. "I'm not."But that was a lie, and he knew it."I don't want him." He closed his eyes against the stinging. "I don't want her."Another lie."I don't love him." He tightened his fist, and more blood seeped from the wound. "I don't love her."And that was the greatest lie of them all.





	The Greatest Lie

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back with another one! I couldn't stay away from these three, they're too cute. The last chapter of my other fic is coming soon, I just felt compelled to write this and it poured out of me in, like, a day. So go figure.  
> A word of warning before you go on: Thar be angst in them hills. Lots and lots of angst. I mean, read the tags, this is from Alucard's point of view, what else could it be _but_ angst?  
> Rated E for language and intensely graphic violence. I didn't even know I was capable of writing content this gory, but I guess this is what watching and rewatching Castlevania can do to a person.  
> No smut, but there's some suggestive content, so you've been warned, I suppose.  
> Drop a comment to let me know what you think, please, it'd make my day!!

The demon fell to the ground with a mundane finality, blood spurting across the snow, staining it red. The two halves of its body spasmed for a few seconds before going still, twitching. He could see the white of its spinal cord where his sword had sliced it cleanly through the middle, a perfect circle of bone swathed in bloody tissue and muscle. 

He allowed himself only half a second's respite before he turned back to the battle, his hair tossed about by the cold winter wind that blew through the clearing. It mixed with the snow and ash falling gently on him, pale gold and white and gray.

He saw a crystalline flash out of the corner of his eye, and his body reacted before his mind did, sending him vaulting over the demon behind him in a perfect flip, landing in a slight crouch. His fingers twitched and a silver blur materialized in his palm, his fingers fitting perfectly around the hilt. He drove the sword forward and it pierced through the demon's hide, bursting out of its throat in a spray of scarlet. 

He drew the sword back, and drops of blood ran off the silver edge, falling to the ground. Momentarily clear of demons, he knelt, wiping his blade on the snow, ignoring the smears of red it left on the pure white. He slid the blade into its scabbard at his waist and stood up just as he heard a cry.

High, feminine, panicked— _Sypha._

He whirled around, panic suffusing his whole body like acid. She leaped out at him like a stoplight; surrounded by demons on all sides, both palms up and leaping with flames, her full, delicate features set into a rictus snarl with concentration. One of the demons had slashed at her arm, and there was a line of blood running down her robe. 

Even in the midst of battle he stiffened. _Blood._ He didn't need it to live, of course, not like a full-blooded vampire did, but its scent still made him dizzy with hunger. And Sypha's blood... it hit him like a drug, surrounding him, spilling through the air and filling him with heat and desire. It didn't just make him hungry; it made him ravenous. 

"Sypha!" It was Trevor's voice, and he sounded as panicked as Alucard felt. It snapped him out of his daze, and there was a flash as a line of silver rent the air, trailing sparks. Trevor spun out from behind the body of a falling demon, its head rolling to a stop a few feet away. With a flick of his wrist he sent the Morning Star darting towards the circle of demons that had surrounded Sypha, and then he was running towards her, the whip trailing behind him like a metallic serpent.

Alucard lurched back to himself with a start, cursing softly under his breath as he started towards Sypha. It had grown like this increasingly; he would lose track of the battle, lose focus entirely, and all in the simplest, silliest of things—the curve of Sypha's throat when the neck of her robe slipped, the stretch of fabric across Trevor's shoulders when he cast out his whip. 

Trevor had reached the circle of demons and was whirling and slashing and spinning, a blur of red and black and silver. _Art in motion_ , thought Alucard. Like a line of poetry come to life, like music given a form. The Morning Star danced and twirled around him, a fluid, deadly extension of his arm. 

Alucard wouldn't be able to reach Sypha on time—not on his feet, anyway. Concentrating, he felt an all-too familiar pull in his stomach, and red flashed before his eyes as he felt his feet leave the ground. Half a second later he skidded to a stop directly in the center of the melee, his sword flying into his hand. He swept it upwards and it sliced into a demon's throat, blood spraying everywhere. It screeched but kept on coming, its maw hanging open, fangs dripping blood.

He felt his face twist with disgust, and raised his sword to strike again when there was a spark of silver, snaking out from behind it. It wrapped around the demon's torn throat, and Alucard saw it jerk tight—and then the demon's head was severed clean from its body, which collapsed sideways, blood pooling around the stump of its neck.

"About fucking time," panted Trevor, flicking his whip. It withdrew obediently, looping around his wrist, curling around his arm almost lovingly. "I was beginning to think you were passed out under a tree somewhere and I'd have to go save you."

"Worrying about my welfare?" He swung his sword, stabbing another demon through the eye. "Whatever next, Belmont? Breakfast in bed? Goodnight kisses, perhaps?"

Trevor snorted, casting out his whip again. It looped firmly around the horns of a demon that was bearing down on Sypha, jerking it backwards. It screeched and toppled, and one of Sypha's shards of ice sliced into its chest immediately after. "Keep dreaming, you bastard," he panted, spinning and kicking another demon in the chest, sending it directly into Alucard's sword. He cut it down, spinning out of the way of the spray of blood that followed it. 

"Fussy, fussy," Trevor called teasingly, grinning at him. He himself was covered liberally with blood, scarlet smears of it on his face. He ran a hand along the length of his whip, cracking it and spattering Alucard with the stuff. He moved back instinctively, making an inarticulate sound of protest. 

"You're half-vampire, Alucard," Trevor said, the corner of his mouth flicking upwards. "Shouldn't you be a little more thrilled about this?" He could hear the smirk in his voice. 

"If you're asking me whether I'm thrilled about being covered in stinking demon blood, Belmont, then no, I am not," he snapped, making a face as he looked down at his once-spotless shirt, now more red than white.

"Now is the—absolute _worst_ time to bicker like an old married couple!" Sypha shouted from somewhere to their left, and a ball of fire incinerated another demon nearby. "We have a bit of a situation here!"

Trevor pointed a finger at Alucard. "This is not over yet," he promised. Then he leaped upwards, over a demon's head and next to Sypha, who said something to him that was lost over the roar of the flames. Trevor grinned at her, giving a careless shrug of his shoulders in response.

Another demon loomed above Sypha and Trevor, the very last one among the horde that had ambushed them on the road. He saw Trevor set his jaw, his whip uncurling from his arm, and Sypha narrow her eyes, her index finger meeting her thumb as a sphere of ice coalesced from the air. He let go of his sword, allowing it to hover beside him, ready to strike at his command. 

From behind the demon, Alucard locked eyes with both of them. He nodded slowly, careful not to trigger the demon's sensory vision.

Trevor blinked once. 

All three of them exploded into action as one—Sypha's jagged spikes of ice drove into its eyes as the Morning Star crisscrossed across its torso, tightening until blood welled from the lacerations made by the blessed iron. And Alucard's sword drove forward into its spine, guided by his will, severing it. It was dead before it hit the ground. 

Alucard rolled forward, holding his hand out. His sword spun towards him gracefully, and his fingers closed around the handle, a comforting weight. He slid it into its sheath, standing as he did. They had become such a well-oiled machine, the three of them; a perfectly coordinated unit who could unconsciously rely on each other to anticipate and aid each other's next move. 

"Good show," announced Trevor, nodding appreciatively. He coiled his whip, which slithered around his arm amorously at the flick of his wrist. He stroked a thumb along the gilded crossguard, looking down at it fondly. Alucard found himself glaring at it, which he berated himself for inwardly the moment he realized. _Jealous of a whip,_ he thought. _How low you've sunk, Alucard._

"Yes," agreed Sypha. "But it would, I think, have been a better if show if _some people_ hadn't decided to start squabbling like a pair of children in the middle of it." She crossed her arms, raising a brow at them. 

Alucard turned instant traitor against his norms of Stay-Away-From-Childish-Arguing-With-Trevor. "He began it," he said, cutting his eyes toward Trevor, who turned his nose up at Alucard, folding his arms across his chest. 

"I did _not_ ," he said.

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You did—"

"And here we go again," sighed Sypha. "You boys will never grow up, you know that?" 

To his surprise, Trevor sent him a sideways grin that made his stomach flutter in the oddest, most pleasing way. "I know," he said.

***

There was a fire flickering in the middle of the room, a small, weak flame that guttered dangerously, threatening to go out even at the smallest of drafts. Trevor had knelt by the tinder, trying in vain for almost an hour to coax a flame from the dry wood before Sypha had returned from her scouting of the area. She had taken one look at the hunter lying nearly flat on the ground on his stomach and had burst out laughing for a full minute before she pointed a finger at the wood and had lit it in about half a second.

Trevor had heaved an exaggerated sigh and proceeded to sit with unnecessary force, swearing loudly when his foot collided with a stray beam of wood, splintering it. He'd quieted down since, and was sitting half-propped against a wall, arms folded and chin tucked into them. 

His eyelids were half-closed, showing only two slitted crescents of dark blue turned to turquoise by the firelight. They reflected the dancing flames, so Alucard knew he was awake, even if he was completely still. He hadn't spoken since he'd asked Sypha to make the fire hotter an hour ago. 

Speaking of, Sypha was sitting next to Alucard—close enough that their knees brushed every time one of them moved. He found that he didn't mind the contact at all, even welcomed it. She was small and delicate and warm, and her presence radiated comfort and safety, two things he'd taken for granted as a child and craved desperately as an adult. After all, even now nightmares forced him from sleep every single night.

She was talking, a knee drawn up and her arms looped around it, leaning back against a pillar. They'd set up camp at an abandoned barn, the roof half-caved in and the walls rotting. It was nondescript, as Trevor had said, and easy for the eye to skip over. They wouldn't be disturbed, not here.

"And when I first discovered my magic," Sypha was saying, "I was absolutely obnoxious about it." She laughed at the memories, her eyes far away. "I used it for everything, even things I didn't need it for, like heating bathwater and opening doors and windows." She shook her head, smiling. His eyes clung to the wistful curve of her full lower lip, the faint dents in the soft skin where she'd bitten it. 

He hadn't spoken much, but he didn't mind; he was content to listen to Sypha, watch her talk—see her lips move, watch her hands flutter around like pale butterflies. Hear her voice, like bells ringing and chimes tinkling in a breeze. She brushed a stray curl out of her eyes, sitting back. 

"But my grandfather, see," she said, "he never told me not to use it for silly things. He let me exhaust myself using it for everything, and let me realize on my own that it was not necessary." She looked over at Alucard, a faint smile flitting across her face. "It was a lesson well learned, was it not?" she asked. "To understand your mistake yourself and correct it as you see fit."

"Yes, well," said Trevor's voice, and they both jumped at the suddenness of it, "you may not correct it the correct way, couldn't you? And then it wouldn't be a lesson learned at all."

He hadn't moved, still propped against the wall, eyes half-closed. He cut them up to Sypha and Alucard, and he could see the fire reflected in them, writhing in the blue of his iris. Sypha shrugged, gently wiggling her fingers. The fire swelled, the wood crackling merrily. "Perhaps," she said. "But it is better than being fed the correct answer and being expected to swallow it without question, isn't it?"

There was a pause. Finally, Trevor grunted in what Alucard assumed was agreement. "Fucking Speakers," he muttered after a while. "And their fucking riddles. Never could get a straight answer out of them—or win an argument with one of them."

Sypha smiled benignly. "Yes, well," she said. "I can't disagree with you there." She blew on her hands to warm them, shaking her hair away from her face. "For a people who claim never to fight, we do argue a lot."

Trevor gave another noncommittal grunt, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall. He didn't move or open his eyes, and it was a clear indication that he was done speaking—for the moment, anyway. He lay very still, but Alucard couldn't tell whether he was asleep or not. 

"I suppose that is our cue to go to sleep as well," said Sypha, stretching her arms above her head with a sigh. The loose sleeves of her robe fell around her elbows, past the black sleeves she wore below. He caught a fleeting glance of the smooth unmarked skin of her arm, the delicate, rounded curve of her shoulder—pale skin that was still flushed with blood—before she lowered her arms, allowing the sleeve to fall back in place. He looked away quickly, feeling his cheeks burn. 

"I'll take first watch—" he began.

"No, no, you get some sleep," said Sypha, waving her slender hands. "You look exhausted, and I'm perfectly well-rested." Her eyes flicked to Trevor's still form. Following her gaze, Alucard thought he caught a flash of blue, but when he looked again, the hunter's eyes were closed. _Odd,_ he thought. 

"Are you sure?" he asked instead. 

She nodded vigorously. "Go on, go to bed," she said. "I'll wake you up for the second watch."

There was a faint nagging feeling in the back of his mind, a voice telling him something was off, that he was missing something. Dismissing it as worries born from his exhaustion, he only nodded hesitantly, stretching himself carefully out by the fire. He heard a log crack under the ire of the flame, and it sounded abnormally loud in the silence. 

It was quiet in the room, so quiet that he could hear the steady pulsing of blood through Trevor's and Sypha's veins, calming and even. Eventually he drifted off, lulled to sleep by Trevor's even breathing next to him and Sypha's soft humming across from him. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was a bird outside trill the first hours of the morning.

***

When he awoke, he didn't realize why he had.

It certainly wasn't time for his shift on the watch; his internal clock and instincts told him he had slept for barely an hour. There had been another nightmare, of course—ever since he'd killed his father, they'd come for him every night in his dreams. But he'd slept only an hour or so. That was the first thing he sensed that was off. 

The second was that he couldn't hear anything—no Sypha, no Trevor. The fire was nearly spent, a bed of softly glowing coals all that was left of it. He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking around frantically. Had something happened? Had they perhaps heard a disturbance, and gone out to investigate it, met with shadows and monsters and demons? 

The he heard it—faintly, but it was evident. He heard a pulse, a heartbeat. No, he heard two. And they were not steady and even. They were the exact opposite; wild and frenzied and fast. He felt his brows draw together, and he turned his head, squinting into the darkness. 

He saw Sypha first, her back to him. She was sitting strangely; slightly elevated, her legs curved around something, the hem of her robe drawn up nearly till her thighs—he forced his gaze not to roam over her nearly-bare legs, the veritable acres of pale, smooth skin. Her hair was disheveled and messy, as if she'd run her fingers through it multiple times. 

And then he saw Trevor. 

_Oh._

He was sprawled on the floor with Sypha sitting on his lap, one of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other drew her robe up her legs, his fingers skating across the exposed skin. And he was kissing her. 

Alucard felt his cheeks burn with a fiery blush, immediately looking away from them. He felt a sharp sting on his lip and exhaled sharply, putting a hand to his mouth. His fingers came away stained red. He cautiously ran his tongue over his upper row of teeth and winced when he felt his fangs—they had become sharper and had elongated slightly, as they usually became when his proximity to living human blood was nearest. 

Or when he was, in any way, aroused. 

He dug his fingernails into his palms, trying not to listen to the soft gasps and moans he could now clearly hear from the far side of the room. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his breathing to slow. _Go back to sleep,_ he told himself. _You don't care. They can do whatever they want together. It's no business of yours._

"Is this what you two get up to when I'm asleep?"

The words left his mouth with no warning, and he sensed he was as surprised as Trevor and Sypha, if not more so. As it was, he heard Sypha gasp, and a thump as she was most likely dislodged from Trevor's lap, and a startled "Fuck!" from Trevor himself. He didn't look at them as they turned, Sypha hastily rearranging her robes. Trevor made no move to fix his clothes, which were rumpled, his collar gaping open at the neck. 

He remained sitting, legs sprawled, arms braced behind him. Sypha was blushing, clearly mortified at having been caught. "Alucard!" she stammered. "We—we thought you were asleep—"

"Evidently." He turned his head to look at them, finally. Sypha was still yanking on her robes, her cheeks pink. He slid his eyes to Trevor, and he imagined he looked as cold as he felt. "I imagine this has been going on for quite a while, hasn't it?" he asked, and his voice was clipped, curt. He thought back to Sypha's quick look in Trevor's direction when she offered to take the first watch, the way he thought he'd seen Trevor look back. The way he'd dismissed it as nothing. _Alucard, you fool._

"I—" Sypha was still blushing. "It—" 

"Few weeks, yes," said Trevor unabashedly. "Maybe two, two and a half, something like that."

"Trevor!" 

He shrugged, looking over at Alucard, and there was something in his lazy blue eyes that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "What? He asked."

__"Well, please don't stop on my account," he said coldly. "If you don't mind, I'm going to take a walk, since the two of you woke me up anyhow." He stood, ignoring Sypha's worried look in his direction and Trevor's frown as he did. They didn't move to protest as he left, walking out of the barn and shutting the door behind him._ _

The light snow that had begun falling when they'd fought the demons had turned into a full-blown blizzard, a fierce snowstorm. The wind buffeted him backwards as he walked, head down against the flurry of flakes that threatened to overwhelm him. The flakes clung to his skin, like pinpricks on his neck and face, each bit of snow like the blade of a frozen knife. 

__He veered left, towards a copse of trees that would hide him from view. The moment he knew he was out of sight his fingers curled into his palm tight, and he swung blindly, his fist connecting with the bark of the tree in front of him, shuddering from its roots. A sizable chunk of the bark came away as well, splintering from the force of his blow, mixing with the ruby-red drops of blood that leaked from his shredded knuckles._ _

He gasped for breath, cradling his bleeding fist to his chest, swallowing past the taste of bitterness. _What is it?_ asked a soft voice in his mind—his mother's voice. The same voice that always spoke in his mind whenever he was upset or angry. It calmed him down, despite everything. _What is it that choked you the moment you saw them together like that?_

__"I'm not jealous," he whispered, sinking to his knees in the snow. It was cold, but he hardly felt it. "I'm not."_ _

__But that was a lie, and he knew it._ _

__"I don't want him." He closed his eyes against the stinging. "I don't want her."_ _

__Another lie._ _

__"I don't love him." He tightened his fist, and more blood seeped from the wound. "I don't love her."_ _

__And that was the greatest lie of them all.__

***

He didn't know how long he sat there, on his knees in the snow, his elbows braced on his knees and his head in his hands. The torn skin of his knuckles had healed over almost entirely, but it was still raw and painful.

__He'd fought countless battles, faced hordes of demons plucked straight from everyone's nightmares, had even killed his own father, watched the skin melt and peel off his bones and his blood spurt over Alucard's hands. He thought he knew pain—the bloody rent his father had carved into his chest, slicing his torso open; the hundreds of thousands of cuts, scrapes, bruises; the shattering of his spine by his father's hands, the way he'd cracked his skull and beat him bloody the night he'd killed him._ _

__And the other sort of pain as well—the vast ocean of loneliness that had swallowed him whole after Trevor and Sypha had left, the crushing weight of everything that he'd done and everything that had happened to him pushing him under. The grief that had consumed him after losing everything that he'd ever loved. The same grief that wove its way into his subconscious and had birthed the nightmares that made him bolt upright with sweat covering his body every single night._ _

__But this was another sort of pain entirely, a sharp, acute stab of emotion that pierced his insides repeatedly. A cruel breeze blew, lifting his hair, but he could hardly feel it. He just felt numb inside, and outside, and everywhere. Even his mind felt numb, frozen solid and refusing to think. So, instead of thinking, it decided to replay in excruciating detail what he had seen when he'd woken up, and what he had failed to see before he'd gone to sleep._ _

__And suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes, snapping him out of his bitter daze. His mind flashed back to so many mistakes ago—sitting with Trevor and Sypha at a campfire between Gresit and Arges, and fighting alongside them for the first time. An ache of nostalgia pressed against the back of his throat._ _

__He heard a low, rippling growl._ _

Automatically, he reached for his sword, eyes scanning the bushes. His fingers closed over empty air, and his eyes widened. He looked down, searching for the silver hilt of his sword—and realized he'd left it in the barn, by the fire. _Fuck._

__He grit his teeth, straightening, standing with his feet apart and his hands loose but tense at his sides. The leaves in front of him rustled, then parted like a curtain, revealing two demons, their leathery hides nearly invisible in the dim morning light. Their eyes gleamed red, menacing and cruel._ _

__Only two. Well, he could handle two. He willed his nails to grow, sharper and longer, curved claws that could shred bone. He felt his fangs grow as well, till they nicked his lower lip, slicing into his skin. He swallowed past the coppery taste of his own blood and stepped back in a slight crouch, preparing to leap._ _

And then four more demons slunk from the shadows of the trees, screeching and chattering. He swallowed. Two, even three, he could handle. But _six?_ Even for him, that was doubtful. 

__His eyes flicked towards the direction of the barn. If he shouted, would Trevor and Sypha hear him? Over the howling wind and swirling snow, the odds would not be in his favor. The only option he had left was to try and take them all down before they caught Trevor's or Sypha's scent._ _

__He swallowed, narrowing his eyes, willing the world to fall away, allowing his entire existence to narrow to himself and the demons in front of him. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again._ _

__And then he sprung._ _

__The first demon was taken by surprise; he sailed through the air, landing directly onto its back, his claws digging into its flesh. It screeched, bucking and attempting to dislodge him, but he clung on like a leech, digging his nails into its hide harder. Blood spurted, but this time it didn't disgust him; he was already immersed in the high of frenzied battle, and he inhaled the stench of the blood as if it was a rare perfume._ _

__And when his claws tore through its skin entirely, drenching his hands in sticky, viscous blood and gore till his elbows, he smiled._ _

__And then he ripped its heart out with his bare hands._ _

__It twitched and fell, and he rolled to a stop a few feet away, the bloody, pulpy heart of the demon still clutched in his fist. He looked down at it dispassionately, at the scarlet gloves of blood on his arms, and flung it._ _

__It shot through the air, trailing flecks of gore, and plunged straight into the open mouth of the second screeching demon, lodging in its throat. Its eyes bugged out as it choked, and Alucard clenched his jaw, concentrating. The world smeared around him, and when he could see again he was standing right next to the demon, which had time only to turn its head before his claws sank into its throat._ _

__The air was full of the smell of blood, the hot iron stench of it, as he drew his hands back, allowing the demon to crash to the ground. He was about to turn when he felt something slash across his back, a white-hot line of pain. He growled, spinning around, liquid rage filling him. He slammed his booted foot down onto the demon's leg, and felt the small bones shatter; it screamed, and he seized the distraction, jamming his claws into its eyes._ _

__He kicked the dying demon down, spinning around. There were still more demons, advancing towards him, but he felt almost elated. This was what it was like, to be your own weapon, to love the fight, to drench yourself in your enemies' blood and feel as clean as if you were bathing in the purest of waters. This is what it was like to be a vampire._ _

__A demon leaped at him, and as he raised his arms it crashed into him, pinning him to the ground. It lifted its head to rip his throat out with its teeth, but he inhaled sharply, clenching his fists. He felt that pull in his stomach, and then he was on top of it, bearing it to the ground. It turned, screeching with surprise, and he moved to swipe at it with his hands, but its claws caught his wrists, stopping him._ _

__He struggled, but it held fast, and it made a chittering sound that could almost have been laughter. Seeing no other alternative, Alucard swung his leg, connecting solidly with its chest; it fell back, and he landed atop its chest. It moved to throw him off, but he was too quick; he was upon it in a flash, springing onto it and tearing its neck open with his fangs and spilling its throat onto the snow._ _

__He raised his head, feeling its blood dripping off his teeth, feeling it masking the lower half of his face. He rolled to his feet, baring his teeth and facing the remaining demons, his chest heaving._ _

__"Come on," he snarled, and he could hardly recognize his own voice. "Come and kill me, if you can."_ _

__One of the winged creatures hesitantly moved towards him, its eyes narrowed. He kept his eyes focused on it as it advanced, and once it came close enough he closed his eyes and shifted._ _

__He felt his bones bend and twist, felt his back bow and nearly break, felt his jaw widen, his teeth elongating. He felt fur sprout from his skin, covering his form, and he hit the ground on all fours running, in the body of a wolf._ _

__He raced towards the demon, feeling the world blur into a sightless, soundless maelstrom as he did. He leaped onto it, his jaws clamping down onto its throat, ripping it out with a jerk of his head. It fell, dead before it could make a sound._ _

__He sprang towards the last demon, but this one had clearly learned from the mistakes of its less fortunate companions; it slashed at him in midair, and his cry of pain was turned to a low whine from his animal body's mouth. He felt blood soak his pelt, staining the white scarlet. He crashed into the demon, pain blinding him as it slashed at him again and again, slicing open his face and his shoulder._ _

__He was tired; so, so tired. His eyes burned, and there was pain everywhere, turning his vision red and blurry. He saw the demon's claws aim for his heart, and just as they descended, he latched on to his last bit of strength and clamped his jaws down onto its arm._ _

__It screamed as his teeth severed its wrist from its forearm, and his own claws slashed its throat to ribbons, finally destroying it. He moved backwards, feeling his torn skin leaking blood with every movement. His vision was blurring; he had to get back to the barn. Or he would die here._ _

__He moved towards it, his paws sinking into the snow. He could hear, as if from a great distance, his own rough breathing, and his occasional grunts of pain. Each step was more difficult than the last._ _

__Finally, he reached the door, and he fell onto it, his paws scratching desperately on the wood. He slammed his body against it again and again, until it was flung open and golden light spilled onto the snow._ _

"What the fuck— _Alucard_?" It was Trevor's voice, panicked and almost scared. He dropped to his knees, Alucard's head falling into his lap. "What the fuck happened to you?" 

He let out a pained growl, eyes rolling back into his head. The sweet release of oblivion rose up to meet him, and his body went limp, an agonized whine escaping his mouth. Trevor's features twisted with panic. He turned his head. "Sypha!" he yelled over his shoulder. "Sypha, _quickly_!" 

"You have to stay awake, you hear me?" Trevor shouted, turning back to Alucard, his fingers buried in Alucard's matted fur. "Stay awake, Alucard! I'll get you to Sypha, just _stay awake_ , you hear me?" 

"Trevor," he tried to say, but nothing came out but another soft whine. He felt Trevor's fingers knot tighter in his fur as his consciousness slowly faded away. The last thing he heard before the darkness consumed him was Trevor's voice desperately calling his name.

***

"How is he?"

__"He'll live, but in what condition, I can't say."_ _

____

__"Did you see the massacre back there in that grove? He did all that, himself, without a fucking weapon, Sypha. How could he be such a fucking idiot?"_ _

____

__"Trevor—"_ _

____

__"I'm so fucking done being worried all the fucking time, Sypha." His voice was shaking. "You didn't see him when I opened the door, he was covered in blood and I thought he was already dead, I—"_ _

____

__"Trevor." Her voice was soft. "I know. He'll be fine."_ _

____

__There was a long silence. Then:_ _

____

__"I think he did it on purpose. Nearly got himself killed, that is."_ _

____

__"Why on earth would he do that?"_ _

____

__"Did you see his face when he caught the two of us before he left? I'm not the best person for advice on emotions or feelings or any of that stuff, but he wasn't happy, I'll say that much."_ _

____

__"I noticed that, too." Her voice was quiet, small._ _

____

__"When did all this turn into such a fucking mess?" He sounded tired. "We were just three misfits wandering around and killing demons until a few weeks ago."_ _

____

__"It was never that simple, Trevor. I... I don't think any of us were just friends, since the day we woke Alucard in the catacombs under Gresit."_ _

____

__Silence._ _

____

__"Even with us, what we've been getting up to in the last few weeks—"_ _

____

__"You mean all the steamy make-out sessions under the cover of darkness?" Now there was a sliver of teasing in his voice._ _

____

__"Well, yes—but that's not the point—what I'm saying is that even that... I don't think either of us feel really complete."_ _

____

__Another pause. "If you're trying to tell me you want to have sex now, I feel like that's taking it a little too quick, don't you think?"_ _

____

__"Trevor!" There was a light thump as she most likely smacked his arm. "You know that's not what I'm saying."_ _

____

__"Yeah, I know." He sobered. "I know what you mean, and you're right."_ _

____

__There was another lengthy pause. Finally, Trevor spoke again._ _

____

__"We're all so fucked up," he said._ _

____

__And Sypha burst out laughing. "Agreed."__

***

He peeled his eyes open, and he imagined he could feel tearing skin as he did. The moment the world stopped spinning, he noticed two things.

____

__First, he was in his human form again._ _

____

__And second, his head was in someone's lap._ _

____

__He jerked back, and pain ripped through his body. He groaned, falling back onto whoever was cradling him like he was a child again._ _

____

"Don't move!" _Sypha._ "Your stitches will tear, and then I'll have to do them all over again." 

____

__"Sypha?" he tried to ask, but his mouth refused to cooperate, and all that came out was a strangled "mghmmh"._ _

____

__"Shh," she soothed, brushing his hair out of his face and looking down at him tenderly. "It's all right."_ _

____

__"And he wakes at last." He heard a rattling thump as a stack of firewood was dumped next to the fire, and Trevor stood above it, arms crossed. "You scared the fucking shit out of us, you know that? Bastard."_ _

____

__He plunked himself down next to Sypha, peering down into Alucard's face. Alucard grumbled, nestling himself more comfortably into Sypha's lap. He was thankfully clothed, and someone—Sypha, probably—had mended the torn remains of his shirt and trousers, and washed all the blood off them. His coat, now also clean and mended, was spread over him like a blanket._ _

____

"Do you want to tell us why the fuck you decided it was a good idea to go against six fucking demons by yourself?" asked Trevor, and there was actual anger in his voice. Anger born from fear, and concern. It made a tendril of warmth curl up in Alucard's chest. " _Unarmed_?" 

____

__"Not now, Trevor," chided Sypha. "He's still weak, he can hardly talk—"_ _

____

__"No," Alucard said, and it was hoarse and cracked and dry, but coherent. "No, I can. I'm... I'm sorry, I know what I did was stupid, and reckless—"_ _

____

"Reckless? You nearly died!" His voice rose. He lowered it with an obvious effort, clenching his shaking hands into fists. "You nearly bled out all over me, and now you say _sorry_?" 

____

__"I—" He sighed. "I truly am, Trevor. And to you also, Sypha. I was angry, and upset, and thus I was foolish." He glanced at Trevor. "I imagine you may be able to relate."_ _

____

__"Oh, shut up." Trevor shoved something into his arms—a bowl of broth. "And drink this."_ _

____

__He raised an eyebrow. "Breakfast in bed?"_ _

____

__Trevor looked thrown for a moment, then rolled his eyes. There was a faint grin on his face. "Just drink the fucking broth, Alucard."_ _

____

__He laughed weakly, then gasped when pain flared in his chest. Sypha quickly took the broth before it could spill, steadying him before gently trying to feed him a spoon. He turned his face away, feeling the blush on his cheeks. "I'm not a child; I can drink it myself."_ _

____

__"No." Her voice was firm, brooking no room for argument. "You will let me feed you, and you will not complain. Understand?"_ _

____

__He parted his lips obediently, and her lips pulled up slightly before she poked the first spoonful into his mouth. He swallowed it; it tasted like butter and salt and home. He closed his eyes, then opened his mouth again._ _

____

__Sypha laughed softly, carefully feeding him till the bowl was finished. She set it aside, then gently stroked his hair, combing through it with her fingers. "There," she said. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"_ _

____

__"Mmh." He sighed, leaning back. He had just closed his eyes when he felt her lean down and press a featherlight kiss to his lips, and he was so surprised that he didn't pull away. Her lips were soft and warm, and she tasted like tea and safety and Sypha. He relaxed into her embrace, their lips molding together, and it was perfect._ _

____

__She drew away, smiling at him as she did. "Now go to sleep," she whispered, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. He nodded, unable to speak, his whole body buzzing._ _

____

__He glanced at Trevor, who was watching them with a brow raised. "I got breakfast in bed," he said, looking at him expectantly. "Don't I get my goodnight kiss, Belmont?"_ _

____

__The words pulled a startled laugh from Trevor. "Bastard," he said, but he leaned in all the same, and their lips met, lightly at first, then with more force. Trevor's lips were slightly chapped, and when he parted Alucard's lips with his own and beckoned his tongue into his mouth, he tasted wood char and apples and alcohol._ _

____

__He pulled away after what could have been two millennia or perhaps two minutes, his fingers still lingering on Alucard's jaw. "Happy now?" But he was smiling._ _

____

__"For now," he said, and Trevor shook his head with a grin as he leaned back, sitting next to Sypha by the fire. "Go to sleep, you delusional fool."_ _

____

__And so he slept, with his head on Sypha's lap and the taste of both hers and Trevor's lips lingering in his mouth, surrounded by warmth and safety and comfort and love._ _

____

__And he had no nightmares._ _

____


End file.
